


I Heard a Song Once

by RamonaDecember



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamonaDecember/pseuds/RamonaDecember
Summary: After spending years attached at the hip as they trained to be Templars, it shouldn't be a surprise that Alistair and Cullen fell for each other.ongoing. a collection of cullistair drabbles/ficlets/etc.
Relationships: Alistair/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fills from [me](https://ramonadecember.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.  
> links back to the original post imbedded in the name of the requestor at the beginning of each chapter.  
> C:  
> title from a song by [Paul Baribeau](https://youtu.be/ENJx3aMxZzo).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen blames himself for years for his love not being enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Which part of me wasn't enough?" + "Did you expect this to turn out better?"  
> request from 

It shouldn’t have been such a blow when it happened. Alistair even told him it’s what he wanted to do—what he _was_ going to do—and Cullen had still fooled himself into thinking he had changed Alastair’s mind, that it was even possible to do so. Cullen’s belief likely had to do with the... moment that Alistair and him had shared only a few days earlier.

The two of them had come up as recruits together with the Templar’s, even if Alistair had a little bit of a jump start on him. In fact, that’s even what helped to bond them in the first place, with Cullen gravitating toward the kind boy about his age who seemed to know the ropes and who didn’t roll his eyes when a sword form was forgotten or mock when a stutter punctuated a canticle. 

That bond only grew over the next handful of years, and in a way neither necessarily anticipated. It turned out that while an ear to listen was nice, a fumble of mouths and hands when a moment alone could be spared was capable of offering just as much comfort. 

Cullen took things a step further once Alistair had declared his intentions of joining the Wardens. Alistair has been so excited, so hopeful as he recounted the opportunity to Cullen that he was near breathless with it. Cullen tried to be happy for him and he sat on the dread—the heartbreak, he’d later realize—over him leaving for days before he couldn’t stay silent any longer.

Once the opportunity presented itself, Cullen pulled Alistair aside and absolutely poured his feelings out. He’d never been one for eloquent speeches, but it got the point across, and that was, “I love you.” It was something that had been there between them for ages, an obvious thing really, but had been left unspoken until that moment. 

Alistair’s eyes went wide to hear it, and without so much as another look around, he crowded Cullen in, he kissed him long and slow, and when he pulled back it was only enough so he could spill his own confessions, telling Cullen he loved him too, that he loved every part of him.

Cullen rode that high through the next few days, and then came the realization like a punch to the gut. Alistair was still leaving. Somehow, Cullen had tricked himself into thinking his love would have been enough to stop the plan, and when he confronted Alistair about it, Alistair gave him the most distressed, heartbroken—pitying, Cullen had thought at the time—look.

And so Alistair went.

Cullen didn’t see him again for over a decade, even though news of Alistair always made it back to him. There was even the time in Kirkwall that Cullen heard there was a Grey Warden presence in the city, and very little investigation got him the specific names, but Cullen had made sure he was busy doing anything that would put him anywhere else other than where he might run into Alistair until he’d heard the Wardens had departed once more.

He was not at all prepared when Alistair rode into Skyhold alongside the Inquisitor and Hawke all those years later. It was harder for Cullen to be avoidant then, and his efforts to were noted by the other advisors with varying levels of curiosity, but still he tried. Alistair showed up at Cullen’s office all of his own accord anyway. 

Cullen didn’t even look up from his desk when someone entered until there was a quiet throat clear, and then He did a double take when his eyes raised to the smiling face of Alistair. Cullen’s heart leapt to his throat as he startled, fumbling with his reports and sending a few scattering. Alistair’s soft laughter did nothing to help Cullen’s coordination or the crimson painting his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a mess of things,” Alistair said, his tone light enough, his hold on the report he was handing back to Cullen lingering, keeping that small bit of connection.

Cullen told himself he’d gotten past it long ago, that if Alistair and him ever had a chance encounter he wouldn’t be like this, but still, “You have that habit though, don’t you?” came tumbling out of his mouth. The tight smile on his face held no warmth as he continued with, “Did you expect this to turn out better?”

Alistair released his hold on the report like it had burned him, like Cullen’s words had. It was the first time his own smile faltered. “That’s not fair.”

Cullen knew that, but rather than apologize, he waved it off, saying, “I’m a bit busy at the moment, perhaps we could do this another time.” And when Alistair only stood there and stared at him after the dismissal, “If you’ll excuse me, Warden.”

Alistair acquiesced for the time being, but he kept gravitating back to Cullen. Cullen would lying if he said it wasn’t difficult to maintain the frosty attitude, it was all too easy to fall back into that comfort that inherently came from being around Alistair.

It was slow going, but they did talk, even if there was one topic that went unspoken on, hanging heavy between them but remaining off limits. Coordinating on efforts regarding red lyrium and disappearing Wardens and anything else Alistair might have insight on helped to break the ice, but then Alistair would linger around after war room meetings or in Cullen’s office and conversations would turn to catching up on the years they’d spent apart, and then inevitably, with the bottle passed between them late one evening helping to loosen lips, the reminiscing began. 

Cullen swore he was still trying to work, but more often than not, his eyes followed Alistair as he picked about the office, toeing remaining rubble off to the side or scrutinizing the titles on the bookshelf, all the while recounting stories about their training days. His distraction only grew when Alistair perched himself on the edge of the desk next to the missive he was trying and failing to write, and he had to finally set his quill down to glare halfheartedly up at Alistair when he teased, “Your penmanship still leaves something to be desired. Is that why you never wrote back? Letter writing was never an area you excelled in.” 

It was supposed to be a joke, but Cullen’s face fell and he busied himself shuffling the papers on his desk. By this point, near everyone had given him an earful about how he needed to be better at return correspondence, as everyone from his own family members to Alistair had fallen victim to that shortcoming of his. Cullen tried not to think about the letters from the latter, letters which, for the longest time, the hurt in his stubborn heart hadn’t let him read when they’d arrived. 

When he did break down and read the letters, as few of them as they were and as far apart as they came, it was just as much of a mistake as Cullen thought it would be. The actual content of the letters was inconsequential, but Cullen could remember exactly which letter it was when Alistair stopped signing them with a simple ‘ _Yours_.’

“Yes, well, some things never change,” Cullen said to keep himself from spiraling back into agonizing over just what that meant, as he had all that time ago.

“They really don’t…” For example, how Alistair felt about Cullen. He reached out slowly, taking Cullen’s chin in his hand to turn his face back up towards his, and when there was no protest, only Cullen blinking wide, golden eyes up at him, lips gently parting in surprise, Alistair leaned down and pressed his own to them. 

Cullen melted into the kiss but the moment Alistair tried to deepen it, he tore away with a hurried, “Wait—”

And so Alistair did. After all, he’d already waited this long.

“You left,” Cullen said. He shook his head when Alistair opened his mouth to speak. “Please, just let me get it out.” He didn’t know if his face was burning more from the kiss, or from forcing himself to finally talk about this. 

When Alistair nodded but stayed silent, Cullen went on. “You left. You told me you loved me, and then you left the Order, you left me.” It was definitely the talking now, what was deepening the flush. “And I spent… more time than I care to admit agonizing over that, telling myself it couldn’t have been true, always asking myself ‘what part of me wasn’t enough?’”

“Cullen…”

“I know. I _know_.” That wasn’t the case at all, and even though Cullen was slow to accept it, he had. What mattered more now was how much time had been wasted because of that thinking, how once Cullen realized how badly he’d screwed up, he didn’t know where to begin with fixing it—as if Alistair wouldn’t have faced down three more archdemons if it meant getting word to Cullen that all was forgiven, that none of that mattered.

“What I’m getting at,” Cullen began again, “is that when you leave next—” because it wasn’t a matter of if he would leave, he had to “—I don’t want it to be like that again. I want to be _yours_.” 

“Maker, but I love you, Cullen.” Alistair took Cullen’s face in his hands. “Every part of you,” he confirmed, as he had so long ago. “Even the part that deluded you into thinking you ever wouldn’t be.” You could put a ten plus years and a continent between them, and still his whole heart would belong to Cullen, and Alistair almost considered telling him as much just to see if he could get the pink to spread all the way to the tips of Cullen’s ears, but he decided to spare him—for now.

This time when they kissed, Cullen didn’t push him away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair isn't keen on family planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I want a baby."  
> request by [jellysharkbat](https://ramonadecember.tumblr.com/post/619670462970167296/one-more-from-me-40-i-want-a-baby-from-soft).

There was an ongoing list of things that, due to his time as a Warden, Alistair never wanted to hear. This included items like ‘Darkspawn ahead!,’ mentions of any blight, and—

“I want a baby.”

They had agreed discretion was best until the fate of the Inquisition was decided, not wanting to stir up more drama with claims of _collusion_ or _conspiracy_ if their organization was seen to have certain… strong ties to Ferelden, yet there Cullen was, not-so-subtly pressed against Alistair’s side as they stood in the gardens at the Winter Palace, enjoying each other’s company while they could. He snagged his fingers on Alistair’s, giving a quick squeeze as he leaned in to murmur in Alistair’s ear the words that made the king choke on air.

A baby.

Alistair’s stomach dropped and he swallowed hard around the tightness in his throat as his eye was drawn back to the scene Cullen must have been witnessing, even as Alistair had tried to avoid looking himself. A small huddle of women crowded around one who sat on a bench, a child no older than a year or so perched on her knees, outfitted in the same level of frippery as the mother. It was… sweet, even if, by the way the other women cooed and gushed over the poor thing, they seemed to think the mother was in possession of the best and latest accessory, and not a human life.

“We’ve… talked about this before, love.” Siring a child with a swamp witch in the name of helping save the world had really put him off creating or raising another. Alistair tried to be gentle with his words, not wishing to see a look of disappointment on Cullen’s face even if he did think they’d settled the topic and put it behind them long ago.

“Perhaps we could at least say hello?”

Alistair made the mistake of glancing over at Cullen, who’s golden eyes were big and round and fixed on him in a way that always did Alistair in, in the end, and if the smile tugging at the scarred corner of Cullen’s mouth was any indicator, he knew it as well. Curse that man. Alistair sighed, thinking ‘saying hello’ was more trouble than it was worth, but unable to deny Cullen what he wanted. He couldn’t wait til they had a moment alone and he could kiss that smug look off of Cullen’s face.

However, as he took a step toward the gaggle of ladies, Cullen started to pace off in the opposite direction, a spring in his step. They both paused, mirrored looks of confusion on their faces, and Cullen thought that maybe he’d misinterpreted, that Alistair’s sigh hadn’t been the rest of his resolve crumbling.

“Just a quick hello, really,” Cullen assured with a nod of his head back over his shoulder.

It dawned on Alistair then what mother Cullen was actually interested in entertaining, and that was the mabari lying in the grass with her pups around her, chasing each other and stumbling over one another in their play. Alistair’s heart melted as fast as Cullen’s must have, and with all thoughts of human children put from his mind, he was on Cullen’s heels in an instant.

True to his word, Cullen kept the visit short, and Alistair was sure they could have stayed there all day if it wasn’t for Cullen’s notorious level of self-control. The moony look stayed plastered on Cullen’s face even as they walked away, though, and it had Alistair knocking their shoulders together and asking, “So you want a baby, eh?”

Cullen shrugged like it was no big thing, but his cheeks turned crimson and he mumbled something about being forgiven for his outburst.

“What about two?” The pups’ big sad mabari eyes has worked on Alistair just as well as Cullen’s had.

There was nothing discrete about the way Cullen drew Alistair to a stop with an arm around his waist or the kiss that was pressed to his cheek, and while now Cullen was flushed to the tips of his ears over another ‘outburst,’ but it didn’t keep the grin from his face. “I already have thoughts on names.”


End file.
